Warmth flowed, seeping into bone and tissue. I was floating, like I was in the warm ocean waters of the south. I thought of the beach, but I . . . I couldn’t remember when I’d actually gone to the beach.
Memories still came together, of the bright sun and pale, gritty sand, of sitting with my toes just touching the frothy waters. There was laughter, and I knew I wasn’t alone. I was safe, always safe—those images broke apart before I could hold on to them.
I knew I’d never been to the beach. Neither of my parents had been the vacationing kind. There hadn’t been time after the invasion, and before . . .
Why couldn’t I remember before?
You know why, whispered a voice. Before never existed.
I was floating again, and thinking became overrated. There was this voice, this deep melodic voice whispering in my ear, telling me to give in, and that voice was warm and safe. So, I gave in to the warmth settling over me. I let it lull me deeper, guiding me back into the abyss, where I stayed and stayed. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, but I finally, finally opened my eyes.
I wasn’t in the backseat of some car, writhing in unbelievable pain. I was on a bed, a very comfortable bed. Swallowing against the dryness in my throat, I looked around the room. The moment I recognized the bare walls and exposed brick, my heart stopped.
Luc’s apartment.
What happened came rushing back to me. I’d been leaving school and run into this Origin—he’d broken my arm and Luc had done something. Something big, because my arm barely hurt.
He’d healed me, for real this time, and that was huge. He didn’t have to do that. They could’ve taken me to a hospital. Wait. Oh God, was I going to turn into a mutated human—
I shifted and my leg bumped into something hard. I stopped moving. I was so not alone. I breathed in deeply, my heart stuttering when I recognized the woodsy scent surrounding me.
Oh dear.
I looked to my left, and devastatingly beautiful features registered. Yep, that was Luc lying next to me, and I couldn’t even begin to fathom how this had come about.
My eyes widened as I took in the sight of him. He was half sitting up, his back against the wooden headboard, and his chin was dipped down. Thick lashes fanned the skin under his eyes. His arms were folded over his stomach and his chest rose and fell deeply, as if he were asleep.
What in the world?
If I had had my camera, I would have taken a picture of him in that moment. Probably sounded creepy as hell, because he was asleep and all, but Luc at rest was a stark contrast of hard lines and unyielding softness.
Okay.
I needed to prioritize, and taking pictures of a sleeping Luc was nowhere on the list of things I needed to do. Unable to help myself, I glanced over at Luc. Eyes like polished amethyst jewels stared back at me. Every muscle in my body froze, causing my arm to throb.
“Hey there, Peaches,” he murmured.
“Hi,” I whispered. I was really out of it, because I knew there were a lot of important things we needed to talk about, but those problems, terrifying ones, seemed muted and far away. “Why am I in your bed . . . with you?”
One side of his lips kicked up. “I was dozing.” His gaze dipped and then he sucked his lower lip in between his teeth as his lashes lifted. “Damn, Peaches . . .”
The next breath I took got stuck as what had happened rushed to the forefront of all my jumbled thoughts. “God,” I whispered, shuddering. “Luc, that guy—he’s responsible for what happened to Colleen and Amanda. Maybe even that family.”
The sleepiness vanished from his features. “I wanted to wait to make sure you were okay before we talked about this—”
“This can’t wait.” My heart thundered in my chest as residual fear kicked in. “He admitted to killing them. He said—” My voice cracked. I couldn’t bring myself to say what I needed to.
Luc picked up on it. His lips thinned. “He thought he was grabbing you when he took Colleen? After he saw you talking to me?”
For once, I wasn’t mad about him for peering into my head. “Yes. God.” I felt like I was going to be sick. “Colleen is dead because he thought she was—”
“Stop.” His fingers touched my chin, drawing my gaze to his. “She is not dead because of you. What happened to her isn’t your fault. Okay?”
I drew in a shallow breath. “Okay.”
“I have a feeling you don’t really believe that.”
It was hard to believe that when you knew someone had been killed because they were mistaken for you. My guilt, misplaced or not, wasn’t important right now. “I met him before—I mean, in the parking lot of school. My stuff fell out of my bag and he helped me pick the stuff up. He hadn’t given off any ‘Hey, I’m a serial killer’ vibes then. He was nice, and I thought he was a student, but it was him. And he was in my house that night and he said he left his mark on me the second time.”
Understanding flared in his eyes. “Those marks on your stomach.”
“You didn’t do it. It was him.” Nausea twisted up my insides. “He’s been in my house. Twice.” I looked away from Luc, squeezing my eyes shut. “He knew you, Luc, and he wasn’t a Luxen. He was an Origin. I saw his eyes. They were just like yours.”
Luc was so quiet, but I could feel the red-hot fury pouring off him. It charged the air in the room. “He didn’t happen to give you a name or anything useful?”
“No. I thought there weren’t many Origins left?”
“They aren’t,” he growled. “What did he look like?”
“About my age.” I opened my eyes, willing my heart to slow down. I wasn’t in that parking lot. I was safe. For now. “He had brown hair and the same color eyes as you.”
“Anything else you remember?”
“He was wearing sunglasses nearly the entire time, but he . . . he had a dimple in his right cheek and . . .” I trailed off as I remembered what he’d said to me right before he broke my arm. “He asked me to say something to you, but I don’t think I heard him right.”
The pupils of Luc’s eyes were starting to turn white. “What did he say?”
I shook my head. “He wanted me to ask you if you’d . . . play with him.”
Everything about Luc changed in an instant. He was off the bed in a nanosecond.
His hands were curled into fists at his sides.
“What?” I asked as a kernel of panic took root. “What, Luc?”
“How old did you say he looked?”
“Around my age, give or take a year.”
“He was definitely a teenager? This is important, Peaches. You’re positive that he was a teenager?”
“Yes.” I stared up at him. “I’m positive. Why? Do you know who it is?”
Lifting a hand, he thrust his fingers through his messy hair. “There’s only one person I can think of, but he’s . . . God, he would only be about ten years old now.”
I choked on a hoarse laugh. “He definitely wasn’t ten years old.”
There was a flicker of relief skittering across Luc’s features, but it was brief. “It cannot be.”
“What are you not telling me?” I started to sit up, but the room spun a little. “Whoa.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just a little dizzy.” I felt out of it. Like I was waking up after being sick from the flu.
He was next to me again in an instant, on the bed and reaching for me. I jerked, but he was fast. His fingers grazed my cheek and then sifted through my hair, curling along the back of my skull as he shifted. He rose up on his other arm so that he hovered over me. I gasped as warmth radiated from him—from his fingers. It was the same feeling I’d felt before, when he’d touched me in the car.
The warmth soaked my body. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Fixing you.”
“Should you be doing that?” The tingling sensation rippled down my spine, spreading out through every nerve ending. I bit down on the inside of my lip, twisting restlessly, drawing one leg up. “I . . . I don’t want to change into a mutant.”
Luc’s chuckle held a rough edge. “You mean hybrid? You’re not going to turn into one.”
“How do you know?”
“I know things.” There was a pause. “Did that bastard do anything else to you?”
“No. Just my arm.”
“Just your arm?” His voice hardened. “He nearly snapped it in two, Peaches. The dizziness could be left over from that.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the stomach-twisting pain.
“Are you still dizzy?” he asked as his hand slipped down to the nape of my neck.
“No.”
“That’s good.” His voice sounded deeper.
I could feel my pulse speeding up. “I know you told me that you can heal, but I don’t understand how this is working. It seems impossible.”
“It’s the energy. It can be channeled into a human to repair bone, tissue, and muscle, even nerve damage. Wounds.” He paused. “Like I said before, we can heal almost anything that was caused externally, but we cannot heal damage from an internal source.”
“Like a virus or cancer?” I asked, recalling bits of that previous conversation.
“Some cancers they were successful at healing.” His voice thickened. “But nowhere near all of them.”
All of it sounded insane, but he had healed me, and his touch was doing something right then. My eyes were still closed, but I felt the bed shift under me—under us—and I knew he was closer. I wanted to smack myself. I should be telling him to stop doing whatever it was he was doing because I was okay and this seemed dangerous in a way, but the languid heat was making its way down my arms and over my chest, clouding my thoughts and common sense.
Luc was quiet for a long moment. “You scared me today.”
My heart skipped a beat as I opened my eyes again. I was right. Luc was close. Our mouths were separated by what felt like just inches. “I did?”
“When I got that phone call and Connor said you were hurt, I . . .” He closed his eyes, his features tensing. “It terrified me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, because it didn’t seem like anything scared Luc.
His hand was gone from the back of my head, but was now trailing down the side of my neck, eliciting a wave of acute shivers. The healing warmth from his hand was gone, but the heat was still there, curling deep in the pit of my stomach. His breath coasted over my cheek and he opened his eyes again. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”
My lips parted as I pressed down into the pillow. “I am. Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t thank me.”
“I just did.”
“This shouldn’t have happened to you.” The tips of his fingers coasted over my not-so injured arm, to where my hand rested on my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
Electricity danced across my skin, following his touch. My breath hitched as his finger reached the tip of mine and then halted.
“It’s not your fault.”
An eyebrow lifted. “It’s not? This . . . thing that came after you did so because you were seen talking to me. Right?”
“You just told me what happened to Colleen wasn’t my fault. How can you blame yourself for this?”
“Because I can.” His palm moved maybe half an inch and then flattened against my stomach, right below my belly button. Little tingles shimmied across my midriff.
“You didn’t break my arm or tell the guy to do that. You fixed it. You made it better.”
Luc’s gaze lifted to mine, and his eyes reminded me of liquid fire and . . . hunger. I’d seen it before, in the way Emery looked at Heidi, and I was suddenly thinking about what it would be like for us to be in a bed under different circumstances, with his hand where it was and his eyes full of so, so much.
That half grin slipped from his mouth as a certain intensity settled around his lips. My whole body tensed as he lowered his forehead to mine.
“What . . . what are you doing now?” I asked.
“I really don’t know.” He inhaled deeply and it came out in an unsteady rush. “Actually, I’m lying. I know what I’m doing.”
I had a good idea of what he was doing too. My toes curled against the soft blanket, and my hand had a mind of its own. It left my stomach and landed against his chest. He jerked at the contact and then shuddered. My eyes widened at his response. His pupils started to glow and it had nothing to do with anger. Then his eyes closed as his head tilted to the side, lining our mouths up. I shouldn’t let this happen. I knew that. There was an entire football field length of reasons why: he was infuriating half the time, and I had a feeling he was keeping so much from me. Funny that the biggest reason, the fact that he was definitely not human, didn’t even register.
But I wanted this kiss—a real one that wasn’t stolen.
I’ve wanted this for forever.
That thought caught me off guard. Forever? There had been no forever. I hadn’t known him for forever, and most of the time I had, I’d wanted to punch him. In the throat.
The wanting, though? It was consuming and pounding, undeniable and new. My fingers stretched out over his chest. I could feel the heat from his body through the thin shirt. I’d never experienced anything like this before.
And it was a little terrifying.
I pushed against the chest. “Luc, I . . .” I didn’t want to say. I didn’t know what I was feeling.
He shifted onto his side. “It’s okay. It’s—Wait a second.” Luc sat up swiftly, his gaze flickering over me like he was looking for something. Then his eyes widened.
“What?” I sat up, relieved that the movement didn’t make me dizzy. I looked down at my arm again, making sure it hadn’t healed all wonky, in case that was why he was looking at me strangely.
Touching it lightly, I winced at the dull spike of pain. My arm was broken and . . . and now it wasn’t. That was the proof in the pudding right there. Mind. Blown. Overwhelmed, I lowered my arm to my lap. “I feel like I need to thank you again.”
“Don’t.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I’m the last person you should be thanking.”
“Why?”
He turned his head to me, his expression unfathomable. “Something is wrong here.”
My mind raced back to what we’d almost done. We had been heartbeats away from kissing. Was that what he was talking about? There was a knock on the door.
Luc turned. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Emery and then Heidi, peeking around Emery’s shoulder. “We just wanted to check on her,” Heidi said.
Emery had the same look on her face as Luc did. Like she was looking for something around me that wasn’t there.
I was starting to get a little worried.
“You don’t see it either, do you?” Luc asked her.
Emery shook her head as Heidi stepped farther into the room. “See what?” Heidi asked.
“I don’t know.” I looked at Luc. “What are you guys looking for? And why are you staring at me like I have a second head?”
“I know why,” Emery interjected.
Heidi looked at her. “Care to fill me in, babe?” she asked.
Emery glanced at Luc.
“Why are you looking at him instead of telling me?”
Luc rose from the bed. “I have to go.”
“What?” My voice cracked. “Can’t whatever you need to do wait?”
“No.” Luc laughed, and it was nothing like the laugh I’d heard before. It was cold and sent chills over my skin. “This cannot wait.”